


Vintage Captain America Card #5

by shortbusgus



Series: Little Black Books [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Bookstore Owner Darcy, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Phil, Oblivious darcy, Private Security Phil, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4538919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortbusgus/pseuds/shortbusgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy's latest delivery of goods from an estate sale happens to contain a mint condition Captain America card #5 and she knows just which one of her clients would be interested in the find...it also doesn't hurt that she's interested in him and his well tailored suits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I honestly cannot futz around with this any longer or it'll never be posted.
> 
> That said, I hope if anyone does read it, they enjoy the story.  
> I decided that I needed more Darcy/Phil action as they are one of my favorite pairings and there is just too little of them out there in the world.  
> The second (and last) chapter should be out within the next couple of days or so.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by, comments and constructive crit are ALWAYS welcome :)

Darcy shoved her glasses up her nose, pushed the long sleeves of her ragged cardigan up to her elbows and continued to paw through the box that had been delivered a few hours before. Some decent second editions, signed biographies, a couple medical textbooks dated back to the early 1900's; all in all a pretty good haul, she could already think of a few clients that would show some interest.

"Leo!" Darcy shouted toward the back of the book store.

Leo's curly, blonde head appeared from behind one of the floor to ceiling shelves. "Yeah, Darce?"

"Where did this one come from?" She pointed to the box of books in front of her.

"Uh, Wade dropped it off. Some estate sale upstate, I think he said."

"Pretty good stuff in here. Need to get Bruce on the phone, few signatures we need to authenticate before I can put them in the case," Darcy mused and continued to catalog the dusty treasures.

Darcy Lewis had run Little Black Books for the past five years. The shop specialized in rare books and the odd antique or collectible. Darcy was intensely proud of her business, she had skimped and saved every penny to her name to open it and now that she had, it was her life's purpose.

Nestled in a small neighborhood in New York, the space was remarkable and had caught Darcy’s eye immediately. Two stories, the bottom became the main part of the establishment. It housed towering bookshelves, all dark stained hardwood with brass rails at the top and bottom for the attached stocking ladder. Deep burgundy carpet runners with gold trim ran along the aisles and stained glass wall sconces  that she’d uncovered during one of her many expeditions into the dark recesses of her grandmother’s attic hung on the walls. An old, scarred desk served as the port for checkout, complete with an antique, mechanical cash register Darcy had found at a flea market; she had haggled with the seller for over two hours until she’d gotten the price she’d wanted for that register.

The second story was more of a loft, really, it only had half the footprint the bottom floor did and the perimeter finished off with wrought iron fencing, leaving it open to look down upon what Darcy thought of as her kingdom, with less of a risk of falling to your doom. The stairs connecting the two spaces were located in the back of the establishment and featured an artfully hand carved banister. The loft was used as Darcy’s office and was kitted out with another old executive’s desk from before her time and a couple of old wingback chairs she’d salvaged from a dumpster. She had had an artsy friend reupholster them in exchange for a bottle of their favorite red wine. The loft was where she kept their more spectacular offerings, things that only true collectors would seek out. She also used the leftover rooms as her apartment. One decent sized bedroom, the bed covered in handmade quilts and afghans from her grandmother, a bathroom with an old clawfoot tub, and a last large room with a small kitchenette that functioned as both living room and kitchen.  

“You want I should call him?” Leo asked, his familiar Scottish accent washing over Darcy. She liked Leo, he was dependable, funny, friendly, and he loved books nearly as much as she did. He was in his second year at NYU studying English literature, an exchange student of sorts. Leo had come in after spotting a first edition Wuthering Heights in Darcy’s display cases and had fallen in love with Little Black Books. After talking with him for nearly two hours about various literary works Darcy had offered him a part-time job and he’d quickly become a dear friend.

“Yeah, that would be great. While you’re on the phone, you feel like ordering lunch? Thinking Chinese from Bamboo Garden or maybe Thai from that place you love. Whatever you choose is fine, but if you go Bamboo, I demand steamed dumplings,” she murmured as she picked up a dusty old paperback from the box and thumbed through the pages. Something slipped free and dropped onto the surface of the old desk.

“Hey now, what’s that?” Leo asked, striding over to peek over Darcy’s shoulder. “Oh, nice, Captain America card, yeah?”

She picked up the card and turned it over carefully. “It would seem so. Number five, slight foxing around the edges, but otherwise seems in good condition.”

Leo grinned and poked her in the ribs, drawing a yelp. “You know what that means,” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You get to call, Mr. Coulson.”

Darcy turned and gave him a playful shove. “Cut it out, you ass. I don’t have to call Phil.”

“Oh, it’s Phil now, is it?”

Darcy frowned and grabbed up the card, trying to flee to the back of the shop and up the stairs to her office, but of course, Leo was fast on her heels. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Coulson out on a date, Darce?” he asked.

She continued up the steps with him following her and then slumped into the creaky rolling chair, tipping backwards, and refused to meet her assistant’s gaze. “I know better than to participate in efforts of futility, that’s why.”  
  
Leo plopped himself unceremoniously into a wing back chair opposite her. “I don’t understand.”

Darcy hauled her feet up onto the top of her desk and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Have you seen, Mr. Coulson, Leo? He dresses in hand tailored suits and legitimate silk ties. No polyester or rayon for that man, oh no. I’m pretty sure his shoes are Italian leather...like made by an Italian artisan, like he bought them while **IN** Italy. I highly doubt he’d be interested in someone like me,” Darcy stopped and gestured from her black rimmed glasses and red painted lips, down at her ripped jeans, threadbare Wonder Woman tee shirt and ratty old cardigan, all covered in dust and cobwebs from being elbows deep in old books just moments before.

“He’d be lucky to have someone like you, Darcy. You’re intelligent, funny, and I shouldn’t be saying this to my boss, but you’re also hot.”

“First and foremost, you have to say that, you’re my friend. Second, you’re also gay as the day is long, sweetie, so your opinion about my assets is rendered invalid,” she replied, flipping the card over and over on her desk blotter.

Leo blew out a frustrated sigh and waved his hand at her as if to brush aside her objections. “Fine, don’t take my word for it. Eventually one or both of you will spontaneously combust due to all the unresolved sexual tension and I'll just get to say I told you so.”

“I’ll make sure our fire extinguishers are up to code,” Darcy supplied with a wry twist to her lips.

 

* * *

 

Phil sat at his computer and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fore and middle fingers. It had been a very long and hellacious day. Of course, working with Stark always was. It didn't matter that he was an ex-army ranger with an honorable discharge for taking a chestful of shrapnel that nearly killed him or that he held a black belt in multiple martial arts disciplines. Didn't matter that he was fluent in seven different languages or that he had a weak spot for reality television. As long as he was co-owner of SHIELD Securities, Tony Stark was going to be a well-paying thorn in his side. Phil blew out a long breath and picked up his phone, dialing Nick from memory.

“What do you want, Coulson?” A gruff voice asked after the second ring.

“I need to shift assignments and schedules,” Phil sighed. He leaned back in his leather chair and closed his tired eyes. “Stark has decided that he needs to throw yet another gala. We’ll need a full security detail and that means rerouting those currently assigned elsewhere for the event. I want to pull in Barton to run point, if we can.”

“Fuck,” Nick cursed from the other end of the phone. “Bastard is damn lucky he has us on contract or I’d advise you to tell him to fuck himself.”

“You’re the one who wanted high profile clients,” Phil chided his friend.

“Oh fuck you, Cheese, it's savvy business practice.”

“Not that you aren’t a pretty princess, Nick, but the eye patch and leather really do nothing for me,” he snarked.

“Har har. Call Barton, pull him off the babysitting whatever starlet we have him assigned to this week. Send Rumlow to relieve him. Let Clint suggest the team for the gala, it’s about time we let him spread his wings, he’s earned it. If it works out, we’ll have another point man and you can finally take a day off. Maybe start having a semblance of a social life, you know besides being married to your work,” Nick teased.

Phil was used to the jabs at him being overly devoted to the job. He took their work very seriously. Often times, his security force was the last line of defense between the bad guys and the victim. Protect the weak, fight for the little guy (even if they happened to be entitled socialites), these were ideals that Phil supported wholeheartedly, which in turn explained his fascination with Captain America.

Phil had been reading the comics since he was just a boy. They served as inspiration to him, growing up as a rail thin and sickly sort of of kid who seemed to have a bully lurking around every corner. They made him want to be a better man, to fight against tyranny and injustice. The stories spurred him on to join the Army after he graduated. The stories helped mold and shape him into the man he now was.

Over the years, Phil had amassed a truly impressive collection of memorabilia, from rare comic book editions to action figures, still mint in box. Even drawings actually done by Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. His latest endeavor was trying to collect all of the Cap trading cards. They were unbelievably rare and those that had survived since the 1940's that he had managed to find were in rough shape, too rough for him to consider purchasing them for his collection.

"Hey, how's the latest crusade going?" Nick asked, and Phil wondered again if his best friend had some sort of telepathy, at least where he was concerned.

"So far, I've managed to find 3 of the 5 card set."

"Had a little help from a certain book store owner slash antiquities dealer?"

"Nick," Phil said, warning evident in his tone. "Please don't start."

"Com'on, Phil, you have to admit she's something else. Snarky, intelligent, hell she looks like the pin-ups from Cap's time, all curves and sass. Bet he’d never have passed up a chance to punch her dance card.”

“Your innuendos are appalling,” Phil scoffed. “You also conveniently forgot to mention the fact that I’m practically old enough to be her father, complete with heart condition. I’m sure a vibrant woman like that would want nothing to do with a dried up vet that still wakes up in a cold sweat a few nights a week, but thanks for your input,” Phil replied dryly. He started pulling up the electronic forms needed for the slew of transfer requests that would need to be documented and sent for authorization. “Now can you let me get back to work, please?”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, but fine. Good night, Coulson.” The line went dead as Phil’s oldest friend summarily hung up.

Just as Phil replaced the receiver in the phone cradle it began to ring shrilly. “Seriously, Nick, just let it go!”

“Um..hi, Mr. Coulson, it’s Darcy Lewis? You know, from Little Black Books,” Darcy stammered.

Phil let out a tiny distressed sound as he expelled all of the air in his lungs like he’d been punched in the gut. He let out a titter of nervous laughter as he hung his head and massaged the bridge of his nose again. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Lewis," he apologized.

He smiled when he heard Darcy laugh, loud and bright. "It sounds like this Nick has been giving you a hard time, Phil." He could hear the smile in her voice. He loved the way his name sounded when it came from the young woman’s lips. It sounded like he was something...special.

"You could certainly say that. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Phil asked although he was loathe to set the incidents in motion that would end the phone call.

"Ah, one of my fellas brought something from an estate sale and when I saw it, I thought instantly of you," Darcy said. Phil’s heart gave a little leap. She had thought of him, he felt the flush as it rose to his cheeks and tried to tamp it down. This was business for her, nothing more, he tried to tell himself. No need to act like an infatuated teenager. "Vintage Captain America card number 5, amazing condition, slight foxing at the edges, but given the age that’s to be expected; other than that, pristine. Thought I'd give one of my favorite guys first go before I officially listed it. Feel like coming in for a gander? I have time Friday, if you’re free.”

“That sounds great, Ms. Lewis. Around six okay?” Phil asked. He felt a little light headed, giddy at the prospect of sharing space with Darcy again.

They had initially met a little over a year prior when she had found a first run comic Phil hadn’t been able to locate for his collection. He’d found it listed on an internet auction site, bid and won. When he’d found out her business was located in New York he offered to go by and pick up the collectible in person, rather than trouble her with effort of mailing it such a short distance. When he’d shown up at Little Black Books and caught sight of Darcy that first time, he’d become instantly smitten. Her hair had been in complete disarray, a messy cloud of chocolate curls. Her glasses were skewed and she had been covered in dust and grime from head to toe, smiling like she was mad while clutching a first edition Moby Dick in her arms. Since that first meeting, Phil had frequently stopped by, using the possibility of her having more Captain America memorabilia as an excuse to see her, talk to her and the more he did, the more he fell under her spell.

“Awesome, see you then, Mr. Coulson,” Darcy said softly. “Have a nice evening.”

 

* * *

 

Darcy couldn’t contain the smile on her face. Her cheeks ached and she didn’t give a damn. Although she knew that Phil was completely unattainable, that didn’t stop the thrill from knowing that he’d scheduled an appointment for later that day. He’d show up in one of his impeccable suits and she’d get the pleasure of a little ogle and conversation with someone she found fascinating.

She bustled around the shop, unable to sit still for long. Darcy shuffled books, redid the display cases in the windows, putting out some of the new acquisitions from Wade’s estate sale finds, dusted the stacks, ran the vacuum throughout the entire bottom floor and then her upstairs office. She dug through the supply closet and found a hard plastic card case, slipping the Captain America trading card between the slides and then wiped it down until it shone and placed it safely into the side drawer of her battered desk. She couldn’t find it within herself to stop and eat, the butterflies in her stomach revolting each time she pondered even a quick piece of toast, never mind a full meal.

“What has gotten into you, Darce?” Leo asked as he perched on the old stool behind the register that was truthfully more duct tape than stool at this point. “Too much of that jet fuel you call coffee?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him and took another sip from her mug out of spite as she leaned against the front desk. “Nothing has gotten into me, Leo, I’m keeping the store clean, which, may I add, is part of your job, too.”

“Oh...defensive, something is definitely up.” He chuckled.

She looked up at the clock behind him. “It’s five o’clock, isn’t it time for you to pack up and head out?”

Leo rocked back on the stool, eyes wide. “Defensive AND evasive. Spill, boss, what’s goin’ on in Darcy Land today?”

“I have an appointment at six,” She said and waved her hand dismissively, trying to come off as casual. In hindsight, it was probably too casual because Leo picked up on her faux-nonchalance quickly.

“We close at five, we’re technically closed now...why do you have an appointment at six?” Suspicion laced his normally sweet accented voice.

“He couldn’t come until six, I made a concession to wait.” Darcy shrugged and sipped at her rapidly cooling coffee, not willing to look at Leo and cough up the whole truth.

“HE?!” Leo pointed and shook an accusing finger in her face. “It’s Coulson isn’t it, the card!”

Well, shit. Darcy pulled her hands into the sleeves of her baggy cardigan, crossed her arms atop the desk and let her head fall down onto them with a dull thud. She hid her face. Would it be more telling to have the redness showing or to hide, she didn’t know, but it felt safer to hide.

“That’s confirmation, Darce. Are you going to ask him out? Please ask him out,” Leo pleaded and poked at her shoulder which was met with a loud grumble and garble of something that could have been language. “I understood absolutely none of that.”

Darcy took her head out of her arms and propped her chin on them instead. “I said that I was not going to ask him out, but allowing myself an evening of weak delusionism accompanied with some blatant staring of his fine ass in a suit, Leopold.” _God, what does he not understand about out of my league_ , Darcy thought.

“The full name? Really? Ouch, Ms. Grouchy Britches. Fine, I’ll get out of your hair so you can have yourself a good Appointment.” The capitalization was clearly implied. Leo grinned and stood from his spot behind the counter, grabbed his backpack as he rounded the end of the desk and pulled Darcy into a hug as she straightened from her sprawl. “Don’t forget that you’re amazing, okay?” The bell on the door tinkled as he left.

 

* * *

 

Phil parked the red convertible on the street, the storefront of Little Black Books in sight. He briefly checked his reflection in the rear view mirror and ran his hands through his hair, patting it down. He let out an exasperated sigh at himself and dropped his head back against the tan leather headrest for a moment before exiting the vehicle and walking the little ways to the shop.

The sign on the door clearly said CLOSED. The hours posted next to it claimed that Little Black Books was open nine to five, Monday through Friday, noon to five on Saturday and closed on Sundays. Phil checked his watch. 6:10. Darcy had told him six, right? He was reasonably sure she had agreed to six on Friday and that was today, now.

Phil cupped his hands over his face and leaned against the door to peer inside. Darkness except for the upstairs. Darcy’s office. He’d been there the last few times he’d stop by, sat in the chair across from Darcy and chit chatted about this and that while drinking ridiculously strong coffee and just enjoying her company. Phil knocked softly against the glass. He strained his ears and heard a scuffle from inside followed by a loud thump and then one of the most creative and longest streams of obscenities that had ever fallen on his ears.

Darcy stumbled out from the maze of floor to ceiling shelves, cradling her elbow, her face twisted in what appeared to be a healthy dose of annoyance. He watched her as she strode toward the entrance. Her hair was a mass of deep brown silk, bouncing with each step. Her black glasses were low on the bridge of her nose and her lips painted a deep red. She wore a jean skirt over galaxy printed tights and purple Converse sneakers along with her familiar over-sized grey cardigan. It was open and hanging haphazardly off one shoulder, showing off her tee shirt with...a faded rendition of Captain America’s shield printed on it. Phil had the thought that he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

He tried desperately to school his features, but Phil’s lips twitched until he gave in and smiled so large his cheeks hurt. Darcy quickly unlatched the deadbolt and swung the door open, the bell overhead chimed cheerfully.

“Mr. Coulson, please come in,” She said, still rubbing absently at her elbow.

“Phil, please, and I hope I’m not keeping you, Ms. Lewis. I saw the sign, are you...should you be closed?” Phil stammered, still unable to wipe all traces of the smile from his face, although he’d at least reined it in a bit.

“I’m not going to call you Phil if you don’t stop calling me Ms. Lewis and I made the appointment, remember? Of course it’s okay. Follow me and I’ll show you the exciting find, sound good?” Phil noticed that she was also smiling now and nodded before following her into the bowels of the shop.

 

* * *

 

The wood creaked as Darcy lead Phil up the back stairs to the floor above. She unconsciously bit her lip and shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose before going back to rub her sore elbow. She’d been in such a rush to answer the door, knowing it was Phil, that she’d tripped on the last stair in her haste and went sprawling to the floor, whacking her left arm against one of the many bookshelves.

“Are you alright, Darcy?” Phil asked from behind her, concern laced the even timber of his voice.

“Oh, m'fine. I may have tripped a little on the way to the door. Nothing broken, I assure you.” They made their way to her desk, awash in the warm glow of the stained glass lamp settled on the hardwood top.

Darcy rounded the desk and reached to pull open a side drawer when she winced in pain.

Phil extended his hand and took a gentle hold of her forearm, gave a slight tug toward him. “Please let me look?” He asked softly. She nodded, the gesture small. She shivered minutely as his calloused fingers grasped the shoulders of her cardigan and slid it off her arms before lifting her injured arm closer to his face. She could feel the light puff of his breath against her bare skin as he twisted her arm this way and that and marveled at the feel of roughness of his skin as he pressed them in certain places and asked her if she felt pain.

He cleared his throat. “You’re right, looks like just some bruising.” Those fabulous fingers rubbed her elbow in small circles and she fought to repress a little groan from slipping from the back of her throat.

“Ready...to see that card, Phil?” Darcy asked, her voice was breathy and sounded foreign to her own ears.

 

* * *

 

God, her skin is so soft, Phil thought. He didn’t want to stop touching her. Wanted to pull her further toward him, into his arms and...probably have her kick him in the balls for being a creepy old guy.

Phil removed his fingers from her arm and softly let out a deep sighing breath after Darcy turned back toward her desk and delved into a side drawer. He took the time to take stock of his surroundings once again. The looming desk circa the 1950's, stained glass lamp, the little cactus garden, garish hot pink laptop. There were a couple doors, one he knew led to a supply closet of sorts, the other he'd never been shown.

Darcy retrieved a protective case and placed it onto the blotter, turning it and sliding the card toward the edge, closer to Phil.

“Cop a squat, Phil. And feel free to pick it up, I don’t mind you having a hand on the goods,” If only, Phil thought, and then pushed the thoughts aside again as he chastised himself. She sat down in the high backed wheelie chair and smiled up at him.

Phil dragged one of the wing back chairs closer to the antique desk and carefully picked up the protective card case using just the tips of his fingers on the edges of the plexiglass.

"Wow," he said. She had been right on the phone, the card was nearly perfect.

"The dude had used it as a bookmark, can you believe that?" Darcy asked, her eyebrows raised.

Phil shook his head and set the card down, but let his fingers linger over it. "It's magnificent. So what were you thinking of asking for this one, Darcy?"

Just then Darcy's stomach let out an extremely loud and fierce growl. Phil chuckled as Darcy’s cheeks flushed pink. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Busy today and I didn’t have much time to grab anything. Do you mind if I call for a pizza?”  
  
“Not at all. I’ll get out of your hair, it’s bad enough that I’m keeping you at work late, but I’d hate to think I’m standing between you and dinner as well.”

Darcy’s hand stopped halfway toward the phone and she leveled her warm, brown eyes on him. “You could...stay...if you wanted. You don’t have to or anything, but if you’re hungry, you know,” she trailed off.

She was inviting him to stay for dinner. Cool it, Phil, he thought to himself, she's just being polite. Probably doesn't want you to leave until she makes the sale. Savvy business practice, as Nick would say. It didn't stop him from smiling widely and enthusiastically accepting the invitation though.

Darcy seemed to calm a little and her familiar smirk curled her lips. "Pepperoni okay? I'm also partial to Hawaiian unless you have an aversion to fruit on your pizza."

"I'm fine with whatever you decide, Darcy," Phil supplied.

“Cured meats it is, then,” she said and an unexpected chuckle popped from Phil’s throat. It earned him another of Darcy’s shy smiles before she dialed seemingly from memory to place their order.

 

* * *

 

Inside her brain, Darcy was jumping up and down and frantically high-fiving herself. She’d asked Phil to stay for food...and he’d accepted. It was probably more out of pity than anything, but she still felt she could count it as a win. It meant that she got to spend just a bit more time with him, learn more about him, maybe.

Darcy leaned back in her old wheelie chair and took a deep breath before blowing it out in a quick gust. “So, it’ll be here in about twenty minutes.” She felt so awkward, she was so terrible at small talk. She started to twirl a lock of her hair around her fingers. Phil just offered her a kind smile. “Uh, so I have to ask, the suits and ties, is it an all the time clothing choice or only for whatever you do for work? You’re a spy or something, aren’t you? CIA? NSA? FBI? Spill it.”

Phil chuffed out a little laugh. “Work, but I promise I’m not a spy, nothing that exciting. I do actually own other clothes.” Phil seemed to take that particular line of questioning as an invitation to finally become a bit less formal. He reached forward to unbutton his suit jacket and shrugged it off, depositing it in the empty chair to his right. His tie followed soon after and he then proceeded to unbutton the first couple buttons at his throat along with his cuffs and roll up his shirt sleeves to his elbows.

Darcy’s eyes widened a fraction and her mouth went dry. As delectable as she thought Phil Coulson was in his usual finery, the sight of him out of it...was downright criminal. With the jacket off she could make out strong, broad shoulders and muscles corded his bared forearms. The sprinkling of hair now open for view at his throat set her heart racing. She was certainly getting more of an ogle than she had bargained for and filed it all away for further reflection at a later date...alone...in her bed.

Darcy shook her head to clear her thoughts and hoped Phil didn’t notice. “You know, we’ve done business together for, what, about a year?” He nodded. “I feel like I should know something about you, but instead, I’m about to share a pizza with a practical stranger. I think the only thing that I know for sure about you, Phil, is that you love Captain America.”

He sat back in the chair, crossed an ankle over his other knee and tented his fingers together. “Well, I hate to think of you eating with a stranger,” Phil shot her a wink so quick Darcy thought she’d imagined it. Sweet Jesus, was he flirting with her? Please, oh please, let him be flirting with her. “I work in private security. I co-own SHIELD Securities with my best friend Nick.”

“Security? Like rent-a-cops and stuff? How do you get into that?” Darcy asked, her interest genuinely peaked.

“Not “rent-a-cops”, Darcy,” he corrected her, chuckling under his breath. “We provide bodyguards and security details for private clients, not malls. Most of us are ex-military, I was an Army Ranger, medically discharged after an incident overseas. Nick is ex-CIA. He’d started the firm a year before my discharge and after I got back stateside, he nagged me mercilessly until I caved and became his partner.”

Darcy laughed. “I can’t imagine anyone ruffling your feathers, Phil. You always come off as very cool and collected, a stone cold bad-ass. Is it completely uncouth of me to ask about the “incident”? You don’t have to tell me. I...never really know when to stop poking and I have known boundary issues.”

The smile melted from Phil’s face and his eyes clouded over, he seemed to be staring off in the distance at nothing, but he did answer. “Remote trigger improvised explosive,” he said, pausing to look up at her. Darcy couldn’t help but notice the lost look still in his eyes. “My unit was escorting a diplomat for peace talks, should have been a quick and easy mission, but some people didn’t want our guy getting to where he was needed. We were attacked, herded really,” his inflection was flat, the lack of emotion almost making him sound robotic. “The bomb was set off when my Humvee was driving past, it flipped the vehicle and tore a side to ribbons. My friend James was thrown from the vehicle and then pinned down by it after it rolled, he later lost the arm that was crushed. I took a load of shrapnel to the chest. It took a total of five surgeries to get the shrapnel out of me and repair the damage to my heart. I coded twice on the operating table. The rest of the unit dug in for the firefight that followed the detonation and held on until backup arrived. James and I were the worst off. Everyone else escaped the day with scrapes, bruises and one hell of a story to tell.”

“Jesus Christ, Phil,” Darcy breathed. Her eyes were wide with shock. “You’re okay, though?” She couldn’t push the worry from her tone.

Phil seemed to come back to himself and offered her a small shrug. “These things happen during war. I, uh, I’m mostly okay these days. Heart meds, doctor appointments, typical old man stuff,” He gave a self deprecating smile, just a small up turn to one side of his lips and then changed the subject. “Enough about me, what about you? I also don’t relish the thought of eating with someone I know so little about.” His familiar wide smile reappeared.

“Ah, well, my story is very boring. No explosions, no diplomatic relations. I was raised by my grandmother after I lost my parents in a car wreck when I was young. I worked in a frozen yogurt shop and a grocery store during high school. I worked as a barista, a public library clerk, and a waitress through college. I’ve saved every penny I’ve ever earned or found on the street to put into this place.” She smiled. “See? Not exciting, mister Army Ranger. The largest deal I have in my past was petty thievery in my teens, breaking and entering rich vacationers homes, but the lesson was learned before I started down a path I couldn’t change, thanks to Gram.”

He rolled his eyes fondly. “That dedication is nothing to scoff at, Darcy. I’ve also heard that the teenage wild streak is quite common,” there was that wink again, Darcy was sure of it. “When did you realize you wanted to do all this?” Phil gestured around the shop with his hands.

“Gram can be blamed for that one, too. I was shipped off to her quickly after my folks died. I barely knew her at all. She lived on the east coast, we lived in Seattle. I think before she took me in, I’d met her twice and both times I was too young to remember. So, I show up on her doorstep with a suitcase holding everything to my name, a five year old doesn’t have a lot in the way of worldly possessions,” Darcy grins at Phil before forging on. “And she sweeps me up in the biggest, warmest hug, plies me with hot chocolate, the real stuff, made on the stove with milk and heavy cream, none of that powdered shit,” Phil laughs loudly at that and Darcy thinks about how she loves that sound and how grateful she is that he no longer looks so sad. “And then she hustles me into the library and changes my whole life.”

“Gram’s house was this old Victorian, there were antiques everywhere and she had a library full of floor to ceiling shelves, just like here, and they were overflowing with books. She taught me that old things were beautiful and valuable and should be cherished. Most of that education happened in that room, surrounded by first and second editions of literary classics.”

When Darcy looks up Phil is still smiling at her, but he’s leaning forward in the wing back chair and his gaze has...intent. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re remarkable?” Phil asks, his voice soft and low.

Darcy’s eyebrows shoot high on her forehead and her lips part slightly. Oh god, he IS flirting with me, she thinks, don't blow it Darcy girl. She was about to reply in kind when a loud crash of broken glass sounded through the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the conclusion!
> 
> I wanted to thank everyone for their comments and catching my mistakes (because I'm not cool or prolific enough to warrant an awesome beta).  
> I'm so happy that you all seemed to like the story. It's encouraging me to continue in this universe as I have some ideas on where Phil and Darcy and the crew of Little Black Books could go from here.
> 
> Warning, there is a really bad attempt at smut in this chapter. I love reading it, I'm terribad at writing it so I apologize preemptively and hopefully it doesn't totally ruin it for you.
> 
> That being said, thanks for stopping by and reading, you're all just swell :)

More noise came from the store below them, the crash and clatter of things being tossed to the floor, manhandled, crushed. Phil stood abruptly, as did Darcy, and he gestured silently for her to stay behind him and remain quiet with a single finger to his lips. He crouched low and lifted the leg of his expertly tailored suit to withdraw his service pistol, a security blanket left over from his army days in the form of a 9mm Beretta, from the ankle holster he was rarely found without. Phil looked over his shoulder one more time to check on Darcy, whose eyes had grown roughly to the size of dinner plates and her normally gorgeous complexion had gone a bit pale. She looked, well, Phil thought she looked terrified.

Phil straightened, made the two strides it took to stand in front of Darcy and slid the hand not holding the gun around her waist, pulling her against his side. He leaned forward and placed his lips against the shell of her ear. He could feel each nervous tremble as it traveled through her petite frame. “It’ll be okay, just stay here and get under your desk for me. Don’t come out until I come for you. I need to know that you’re safe,” he breathed. “Nod if you understand me.” Phil leaned back and looked down into Darcy’s eyes and she nodded minutely, then slid away from him and pushed herself into the alcove underneath the heavy, old desk.

As soon as she was safely ensconced, Phil made his way silently down the back stairs toward the sounds of disturbance. The store was being thoroughly rummaged through by that point and he could hear heavy, ragged breathing accompanying the sounds of books and antiques being tossed around carelessly. He could see through the stacks that one of the glass panes of the door, the one closest to the door knob and lock, had been smashed and shards lay on the rich burgundy carpeting. There were tomes strewn across the floor, papers torn and scattered around like so much confetti.

Phil crept down the aisle and caught sight of the assailant, a young man with a finely muscled physique clad in dark jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt; he was attempting to pry his way into the cash register. It was clear with the destruction the kid had wrought that he had no idea the books he’d tossed aside were worth far more than he’d be able to wrestle from the ancient contraption. With the intruder’s attention fully on breaking into the cash register, Phil was able to sneak up behind him easily, nothing more than a shadow. The kid froze when he heard the sound of the hammer being cocked on Phil’s sidearm and jolted to attention, his back ramrod straight, hands immediately flying into the air in a gesture of surrender.

“Don’t move a muscle,” Phil demanded, his voice hard yet calm and collected. “I’m going to withdraw my phone and dial the police and you’re going to stay exactly where you are. Rest assured my weapon is currently, and will remain, trained on you and if you attempt to flee, I will use every skill within my faculties to subdue you. Do you believe what I’ve just told you?”

“Y-yes, sir,” the boy answered and he was truly a boy, Phil could see that now, no more than teenager.

Phil drew out his cell phone and called the police to request their assistance. Short, sweet and to the point. A patrol car within a few blocks and would be there within the next ten minutes or so.

Phil took a deep breath to calm his heart beat. Although the boy had been thwarted in his plot to steal from the store, Phil couldn’t help but see red. The shop was a wreck and having only just learned that Darcy had saved and worked for it nearly her entire life only to have it blatantly disrespected this way rankled him more than anything in recent memory. “You know, I almost wish you had chosen another store, kid,” Phil confided. “I’m more than a little upset that you chose this one seeing as the owner means a great deal to me.”

The would-be criminal didn't say anything, but nodded and continued to stand where he was. Sirens came not long after, bringing police. The kid was taken into custody without incident. Phil informed the officers on scene that the owner of the store was upstairs and requested to be the one to retrieve her so as not to frighten her further. He was given the go ahead and jogged to the back of the store and up the stairs on light, near soundless feet, taking two at a time.

Darcy was still huddled under her desk, her arms wrapped around her knees and her face buried between them. Phil got down on the floor in front of the cubbie hole and reached out to gently stroke her arm. She started and yanked her head up out of her knees, hitting it hard on desk top above her. “Hey, careful,” he chided and moved his hand from her arm up to gently rub the top of her head. She blushed a beautiful shade of crimson as he helped her out from her hidey hole.

Phil ran his fingers through her thick, brown curls, stroking over the top of her head to ensure she hadn't hurt herself too badly. She winced as he found the spot she'd smashed. "Tender, but you didn't break the skin. Do you feel okay?" Concern laced his voice. Darcy looked up at him and then crushed herself to Phil's chest. He wasted no time wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"M'okay," she said against his chest, softly. She pulled back slightly, her eyes wide and unblinking again. "Oh god, are YOU alright?!" Darcy frantically ran her hands over every part of him she could reach; down his arms, around his shoulders, up and down his chest and back, before she brought her hands up to cradle his cheeks, searching his face for any sign of injury. Just as Phil thought she seemed satisfied with her examination, Darcy pulled Phil's face down to hers and kissed him.

It started as a small, tentative thing, just lips molded to lips, a symbol of Darcy being glad he was safe and unharmed, but it quickly morphed into something heady, heated. Lips parted and met again and again, growing with heat and intensity, tongues tangling, lips being nibbled and gently bitten and suckled, sighs as hands pull each other closer.

"Mr. Coulson, Ms. Lewis," a rough voice called up from the bottom floor. "We're ready for your statements."

Phil pressed one more peck to Darcy's kiss swollen lips before resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes were still shuttered closed, color high in the apples of her cheeks. "The police need to see us downstairs and maybe back at the station," he murmured. He licked his lips and could still taste the sweetness that was all Darcy.

Darcy nuzzled his Phil's stubbled cheek before opening her eyes. "Okay. We should...do that." He felt her warm breath wash over his face before he was swallowed up by the cool air that flood around him when she stepped out of his arms and made her way to the first floor.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the evening passed as a bit of a blur, but proceeded much as Phil had predicted. They were both escorted to the local precinct where statements were collected and Darcy made the decision of whether or not she wished to press charges for the attempted robbery.

In the end, Darcy decided she didn't want the kid to end up in juvenile detention. Seeing him in the interrogation room, shoulders slumped in defeat, she'd recognized the type. A young kid with nobody to watch out for him, trying to make his own way in the world. It could've as easily been Darcy's own story if she hadn't had Gram to set her straight after her brief stint as a cat burglar. So she lobbied for community service instead of the felony he'd been headed for and asked that he be allowed to work off the damage he'd wreaked at Little Black Books with her, at the shop. Darcy secretly hoped that maybe she could be the steadying influence he needed in his life.

In the days that followed, Pietro came to the shop a few afternoons after school and she began teaching him about literature and the business of dealing old and rare books. After the first week, he asked if he could bring his twin sister in while he worked, he had seemed genuinely distressed by being away from her, and, after agreeing, Darcy was introduced to Wanda. More often than not, she'd have both teenagers up to her private quarters for dinner after closing up shop and then drive them back to their foster home, full and relatively happy.

The first duty Darcy bestowed upon Pietro during his first week was to have him wrap and mail out the Captain America trading card to the address they had on file for Phil as a thank you gift.

The other thing that was present in the days following Pietro's "appearance" was Darcy's sullen mood. Phil hadn't stopped by or returned any of her calls in the weeks since they'd last seen each other.

_Hi Phil. I wanted to call and make sure everything was alright. Maybe call me back when you get a second, just checking in. Oh, it’s Darcy, by the way._

She'd thought they’d made a connection that night. Sure, it had all been ruined by the impromptu attempt at crime, but...they had kissed.

_Hi again, Phil. I know you must be super swamped, I saw the thing about SHIELD doing security for Tony Stark. That must be pretty crazy. Um, anyway, just wanted to see how you were. Ah, hope you have a great day._

Made out really. All roaming hands and lips and tongues. It had been really hot and Darcy just couldn’t figure out where it fell apart.

_Phil. It’s Darcy, just trying to check up on you again, wanted to...you know make sure you were okay or something?_

She couldn't help wondering if their actions seen in the light of day had made him see his mistake. It seemed he was making a conscious decision to be as far from her as possible.

_Mr. Coulson, Darcy Lewis from Little Black Books… … … actually, you know what? I’m sorry, I’ll stop calling._

"Are you still moping, Darce? You're driving me insane," Leo smacked a book down on the desk next to where Darcy had been cradling her head in her arms next to the cash register again. She glared at him.

“Shut your face hole,” she grumped. “Don’t you have class work to do or something?” She waved a hand dismissively before she dropped her head back into the safety of her folded arms.

“I don’t understand the problem with calling him,” Leo huffed. “You could even lie and say it was work-related. He’s probably still interested in that super hero card.”

“The problem, Leo, is that we kissed and it apparently didn’t mean anything to Mr. Coulson,” she answered shortly. “I have called! In fact, a pathetic amount. He never called back. I mean, it's understandable, really. He’s trying to forget that I groped the everloving shit out of him while simultaneously attempting to stick my tongue down his throat. This is his way of letting me down easy and I’m going to take it as an easy out instead of making an even bigger ass of myself. Also, the card is a moot point. I sent it to him as a thank you for intervening in the whole robbery thing. Mailed it a couple weeks ago.”

Leo let out a drawn out sigh. “You’re hopeless, boss.”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion. Also, it’s five o’clock, get out of my shop,” Darcy grunted and stuck her tongue out at her assistant before he swung around the desk and gave her a one armed hug and slipped out the door, turning the sign over to CLOSED before it shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

Phil had been sitting in his car for just over an hour, staring at the door to Little Black Books, still trying to work up the nerve to go and knock. He should have come during his lunch break, not that he ever took one, but he should have made an exception in this case. He was worried about being alone with Darcy. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable after what had happened between them, what he had done.

He finally gathered all of his courage and exited the convertible, wiping the sweat from his palms on his slacks before walking over to the repaired door of the shop. The sign was once again flipped to CLOSED, but Phil knocked anyway, halfway hoping that Darcy wouldn’t answer and he could return the “gift” she had sent him by sliding it stealthily through the mail slot. Phil never considered himself a coward, but he certainly felt like one now.

There was still no sound coming from the interior of the store so Phil took the rewrapped package that had been delivered to his desk at work a couple weeks prior, the package that had contained a near mint condition Captain America card #5 with slight foxing at the edges, lovingly nestled within a protective glass card case, and slid it and a short note through the brass mail slot at the bottom of the door.

Phil’s shoulders slumped forward as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants and began walking back to where his car was parked. He faintly heard the creak of the door behind him and the muted tinkle of the bell.

“Hey, Coulson, what the hell is this?!” Darcy yelled after him. “Get your secret agent ass back here!”

Phil stopped where he was on the sidewalk and turned slowly to face where Darcy was hanging out of the store by her hand clasping the door handle. She looked livid. Phil bowed his head, feeling awful, not to mention pathetic, all over again. He cautiously made his way back to her. “Hello, Ms. Lewis.”

“Get in here now,” Darcy growled and seized him by his sleeve to pull him through the door. She stopped just long enough to fasten the deadbolt before pulling him back through the stacks and then up the stairs into her office area where she shoved him roughly into the same wing back chair he had occupied the last time he was there.

Darcy stepped in front of him, her hands on her hips and her eyes bright and flashing with anger. Phil was reasonably sure that she could easily make his head explode at this point if she had concentrated hard enough.

“What’s the big fucking idea, Phil? You don’t give back gifts, especially if it’s a  thanks-for-stopping-a-robbery gift, it’s just fucking rude! Also, Ms. Lewis? Really?” Her face fell, no longer looking angry and now looking hurt. “You’ve been avoiding me and I don’t know what I did. Was it the kissing? I’m sorry that I kissed you without your permission, but I think you’re so amazing and I did mention my boundary issues and I totally get that I’m not good enough for you and your fancy suits, or whatever, but, I guess...I thought we connected.”

Phil shot to his feet. She thought HE was amazing? She thought she wasn’t good enough for HIM? “Wait, what?”

“You know, you’re cultured and competent, not to mention a complete and utter badass, and I’m just the weird girl that owns the bookstore and finds you Captain America stuff,” Darcy’s eyes dropped to the floor and she started to wring her hands together.

“Oh, Darcy, none of that is true. You’re remarkable and gorgeous,” he said, grabbing up her small hands in his calloused ones.

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“That night, after the robbery, I took advantage of you and I feel terrible about it. I didn’t think you’d want to see me after that.”

Darcy blinked up at him, her eyebrow arched. “You think you what now?”

Phil huffed out a breath. “I kissed you when you were scared and vulnerable and, no doubt, riding a healthy dose of adrenaline caused by a possibly dangerous situation. I took advantage and I sincerely apologize, Darcy.”

Phil couldn’t quite discern the look on Darcy’s face. It sort of looked pained and then pissed...and then she burst out laughing. The kind of full body laugh that seemed to originate from her toes. She laughed hard enough to actually double over and clutch at her sides. Phil wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d begun rolling on the floor in hysterics, but she managed to rein herself in a bit.

“Oh, Phil,” she reached out and cupped his cheeks in her hands, her smile was radiant. “I think you forgot that I’m the one who kissed you. If anyone was taking advantage of someone else, it was all this girl,” She drew back and pointed both thumbs at her chest. “Did you not notice my hands all over your ass when we were basically making out like teenagers? I wasn’t doing anything I hadn’t fantasized about doing with you since the first time you came through that door.”

His jaw dropped open. “But I’m old and boring and I have a heart condition. Darcy, you can’t possibly…”

“Shhhh,” Darcy stopped his talking with a press of her full, soft lips against his. She pulled back minutely before continuing, sharing breath with him, her lips still a teasing brush against his as she spoke. “You are fascinating and smart and sexy and that heart condition was caused by you doing something incredibly brave. Please don’t tell me that I don’t find you amazing; I’m guessing that you haven’t noticed, but I’m kind of totally gone on you, Phil.”

“I’m completely irrational about you,” Phil confessed before hauling Darcy against him and sealing their lips in a searing kiss. Now that he’d gotten permission to do so, Phil’s hands wandered over Darcy’s body with purpose, stroking down her back and shoulders, palming her hips, even daring to grab a handful of her glorious rear before he buried his hands in her soft, brown curls and licked into her mouth. And she didn't pull away, Phil expected her to do so at any moment, maybe slap him, but she stayed right there, tangled with him and matched him touch for touch while letting out little gasps and moans that did nothing but fuel the fire of Phil’s need for her.

Darcy broke the kiss and rested a hand against Phil’s chest. He wondered if she could feel just how hard his heart was beating. “Do you want to come back to my apartment?” She asked, still gasping for air, breathless.

Phil nodded and responded without hesitation. “Yes, please.”

Darcy grinned up at him before she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door in the back of her office space that he had wondered about before. “You live here?” He asked her.

“I never told you?” Darcy looked at him over her shoulder. “The back rooms are my apartment, nothing fancy, but, they’re all mine.” She popped the solid wooden door open and tugged him inside, shutting the door behind them securely and locking the deadbolt. Darcy crowded back into Phil’s space, pressing him against the wall lightly. She stroked her soft hand over his stubbled cheek. “Hi.”

Phil grinned down at her while wrapping his arms around her waist. From this close he could make out all of the flecks of gold in her warm brown eyes. He’d be happy drowning in them. “Hello, Ms. Lewis.” He still couldn't believe that she seemed to like him.

Darcy groaned and slammed her eyes shut. “God, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.”

Phil chuckled and bent to capture her lips again. She tasted so sweet, like sweet tea and honey. He could see himself quickly becoming addicted to that taste. Darcy let out a happy hum before she reached up to push his suit jacket off his shoulders, sending it crumpling to the floor with little regard.

Darcy pulled Phil from his place at the wall and they began to move toward her bedroom, stopping here and there to shed their clothing. When they finally reached the room, they were both down to their respective undergarments and Darcy gave Phil a playful little shove, causing him to sit at the side of the quilt covered bed with a smile and little ‘oof’.

Darcy’s eyes were dark and heavy-lidded with lust and the smirk that slowly formed on her lips was predatory as she straddled his lap. Phil wrapped his arms around slow curve of her waist and leaned forward to mouth the side of her neck and down over her collarbone, sucking little marks into her ivory skin.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” He panted against her. Darcy slowly undulated her hips against his lap and Phil’s breath left him in a low groan. He grabbed her full hips and flipped her over onto the middle of the bed. The swift motion choked a squeak of surprise out of Darcy and she began to giggle, her eyes wide with shock.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Phil,” she laughed breathlessly and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra before tossing it over the side of the bed.

Phil's eyes grew wide as he appraised her now bare breasts. "See something you like?" Darcy teased.

Phil groaned and lowered his head to nuzzle her, taking in a deep breath of her scent. “I love everything about you,” he replied before he punctuated his statement by enveloping one of Darcy’s pink nipples with his mouth, alternating between swirling his tongue around the hard little peak and suckling it. Darcy gasped and arched against him as he continued to lavish attention on both of her breasts. Her legs fell open, an invitation for Phil to settle into the cradle of her thighs. He skimmed his calloused fingers up and down her sides, kneaded her breasts, trailed them over her hips and squeezed at the supple flesh of her thighs before teasing between her legs. Darcy keened and pressed her hips against his seeking fingers, chasing the friction.

Phil moved up and buried his nose against the sensitive flesh just below Darcy’s ear. “Is this okay?” He breathed against her, his voice was an octave or two below his normal register and it made Darcy shiver with want.

“Yeah, yes, don’t stop,” she pleaded.

Phil smiled and kissed her thoroughly, a sweet and slow meeting of swollen lips and exploring tongues. He still couldn’t fathom this amazing woman wanting anything to do with him.

When he released her lips he started kissing down her body, sucking more marks across her skin to mark his descent. When he reached just above her panties, Phil looked up at her, his expression questioning as he hooked his fingers into the side of her underwear. “Can I?” He rasped.

Darcy nodded fervently. “Uh huh.”

He slid her panties down and off her legs in one swift motion, dropping them onto the floor beside the bed and began kissing back up her legs and dropping teasing licks along her inner thighs. Phil settled on the bed between Darcy’s legs and licked a broad stripe from her center up to her clit where he circled his tongue softly. Darcy moaned loudly and arched off the bed. Phil curled one arm around her thigh, simultaneously kneading the muscle and holding her against his mouth. Her fingers flew down to thread through Phil’s short hair as he continue to lick, suck and nibble at the bundle of nerves before he eased a calloused finger into her tight heat. Soon a second digit joined the first, crooking slightly and rubbing against the spot inside Darcy that drove her mad, causing her legs to shake and her cries to escalate until she was writhing and calling his name over and over. Phil felt Darcy’s walls tighten and spasm around his fingers as she came. Phil continued to work her through the entirety of her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure, before easing his fingers from her and laying one last sweet kiss against her over sensitive flesh.

Darcy was still gasping for breath when Phil crawled up to lay beside her. “Okay?” He inquired softly before he dropped his lips to her shoulder and neck, his hand soothing circles into her belly.

She rolled over onto her side to face him. “Are you seriously doubting your skills right now?” She asked incredulously. Phil turned bright red, even the tips of his ears, and ducked his head. “Aw, Phil, you’re so fucking adorable I feel like kittens and puppies are just going to rain from the damn sky.”

Phil’s snort was cut short as Darcy swung a leg over his and straddled his waist. “And where are you going?” He asked. He couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from his face at seeing Darcy above him, flushed and radiant.

Darcy shimmied around, getting comfortable in her position on Phil’s lap, drawing a groan from the man. Darcy decided she loved that sound and very much wanted to hear it again. She ground her hips down in a tight circle. “Mmmmm...in the interest of reciprocity,” She rolled her hips again and gasped as she rubbed against Phil’s hard length. “I feel it’s only fair that I try to rock your world as hard as you just rocked mine, handsome.” She purred before she reached over into her bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer and toss it down next to them.

Phil was still grinning goofily as he stroked his hands up and down the unbelievably soft skin of Darcy’s thighs and kneaded her hips. She ran her fingers over his face, around his eyes and over his lips. Phil nipped playfully at the pads of her fingers. “I love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.” Darcy said, her facial expression soft and fond. “But if I don’t see your “O” face in the next ten minutes I’m going to be supremely disappointed.”

Phil rolled Darcy over and began attacking her neck with growling bites causing her to shriek with laughter. He worked more love bites down around her collarbone and down her chest, soothing them afterward with his tongue. He then alternated between kissing and kneading her breasts. Darcy moaned low and tilted Phil’s face up to look at her. Her eyes were heavy lidded and dark, her pupils were blown wide. “Please, Phil, want you so much.”

At that, Phil reached down and quickly shoved and kicked his boxer briefs off his legs. He stroked his hard length a few times before he ripped open the condom packet and rolled it on. Phil went back to kissing Darcy slow and deep as he positioned himself at her entrance. “You’re sure?” he rasped, his muscles shook with the effort of holding back.

“Yes, yes, please, Phil. Never been so sure of anything.” Darcy wrapped her arms around his well muscled back, pulling him closer.

Phil pushed slowly into Darcy’s tight, wet heat. They both groaned as he bottomed out. Phil buried his face in the crook of Darcy’s neck. “So gorgeous, so beautiful, so perfect, Darcy.” He chanted and started to move in and out of her. Darcy rocked her hips, a counterpoint to his thrusts, drawing him deeper with each stroke as they moaned and gasped. “Feel so good, honey...not...not gonna last.”

“So close, Phil…” Darcy cried. “Please, more, god, so good…” Her head fell back. Phil licked up the side of her throat, tasting the saltiness of her sweat and a flavor that was uniquely Darcy.

Phil reached under her and wrapped an arm under the small of Darcy’s back, tipping her hips and pulling her flush against him as he thrust into her faster, harder. Darcy gasped and swore before screaming out Phil’s name as her orgasm washed over her. Phil was close behind as he felt her small body shake with the force of her pleasure and her inner walls tighten around him, only two more thrusts and he came with Darcy’s name spilling from his lips like a prayer.

Phil collapsed onto the bed beside Darcy and pulled her snug against his side. “God, you’re amazing,” he breathed into her cloud of brown curls and then kissed her forehead, damp with sweat.

Darcy wiggled against him and tossed an arm and leg over his chest and hips. “You’re staying right?”

“I’m here for as long as you want me to be, Darcy,” Phil assured her. Darcy made a little happy noise in the back of her throat before she tugged the blankets over them and kissed his chest lazily.

 

* * *

 

When Darcy woke up she felt unbelievably warm and cozy. Her muscles were completely relaxed, but when she gave a languid stretch she felt the little pulls, the little aches and suddenly she remembered. She’d had sex with Phil...scratch that, she hadn’t just had sex with Phil, she’d had mindblowingly, great sex with Phil!

Darcy gave a little wriggle against the weight at her back and couldn’t suppress a happy sigh from escaping when she felt Phil tighten his arm around her waist to pull her back against his chest. He sleepily nuzzled the crook of her neck and dropped a light kiss there. She turned her head on the pillow and looked over her shoulder, smiling as his eyes flitted open. “G’morning,” he mumbled. His voice was rough with sleep and Darcy loved the sound of it.

She turned over fully and dropped a closed mouth kiss against his slightly chapped lips. “Hi, handsome,” she whispered. She had no desire to make any loud noises or do anything that would cause them to leave the warm comfort of her bed. “You have some pretty impressive sex hair going on right now,” she told him, still whispering.

Phil rolled over on top of her. “You’re fault,” he informed her with a smirk. “Though I’m not complaining. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you can feel free to give me sex hair whenever you so choose, on one condition.”

Darcy barked out a laugh and smiled up at him as he ranged over her. “A condition for sex hair. Okay, I’m all ears Mr. Coulson, set your terms, but beware, I’m a vicious haggler.”

Phil ducked down and kissed her, slow and deep, drawing a pleased little noise from the back of Darcy’s throat. “My proposal, Ms. Lewis,” he said with a serious voice that caused Darcy to chuckle again before she forced her face into a mask of controlled sincerity. “Is dinner, with myself, Phillip Coulson, tonight at the establishment of your choosing. Time is negotiable, of course.”

“Oh, is it now? Well, that’s very generous of you Mr. Coulson,” she intoned, equally serious although she had begun running her fingers lightly up and down Phil’s spine and shoulders, eliciting a shiver from the man that seemed to scramble his brain just a bit. She smiled in triumph before continuing. “I am amenable to your terms and as such would love to go on a date with you this evening.”

Darcy was pretty sure the grin that split Phil’s face in that moment could’ve rivaled the sun. “Yeah?” he asked with his eyebrows nearing his hairline.

“Well yeah, Phil, as I told you last night, I’ve been nuts about you for the better part of a year. I just didn’t think you could ever want anyone like me.”

There was that smile again. “I don’t think I can want anyone but you, Darcy.”

Darcy groaned. “Oh god, that was just awful and I feel very bad about myself for loving it. Com’on, I need celebratory french toast.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Getting our heads out of our asses.” Darcy paused and then covered her face with her hands. "Oh god, Leo is never going to let me live this down."

 

 


End file.
